By Wendy Thermos
Los Angeles Times Staff Writer
· Former daytime TV producer Gerard Straub traded the high life for a more fulfilling one, making documentaries to help the world's needy.
Gerard Straub knows what it's like to be perched on the pinnacle of success. He also knows what it's like to beg.
Straub once made $10,000 a week as a soap opera producer in
The riches-to-rags journey was of his own doing, spurred by a troubling realization that the world's wealth was surrounded by destitution and suffering.
Today, instead of telling fictional stories of daytime-drama characters, he uses the power of film to document the plight of the world's poor in hopes of prodding the more fortunate to lend a hand.
"It's raw. It's real," said the 57-year-old
Straub has traveled to the world's worst slums to produce documentaries on the despair and squalid conditions of millions of impoverished people. The films are used by aid organizations, such as Union Rescue Mission in
His 1997 film, "We Have a Table for Four Ready," airs annually on many PBS stations at Thanksgiving and has generated more than $250,000 in donations for the
The soap-king-turned-filmmaker has traveled to 39 cities in 11 nations, including
His films are full of disturbing images: thousands of homeless people picking through mountains of garbage for castoffs to sell to junk shops, people horribly disfigured by disease, the indignities of having no privacy or bathroom facilities.
But the documentaries also depict heartwarming family celebrations, people offering their few scraps of sustenance to strangers and joyful faces undaunted by hopeless conditions.
"There's a tremendous love of life in these places, a resiliency, a will to overcome," said Straub.
In all, he has made eight documentaries on the world's paupers. "We Have a Table for Four Ready," the first, tells the story of a soup kitchen run by Franciscan friars in
Straub said that when donations began rolling in from the broadcast, "then I knew. I saw the power of film to change the lives of poor people."
Other films he has produced include "Endless Exodus," on the crushing poverty of Mexican and Salvadoran immigrants to the United States; "Rescue Me," about the indigents who inhabit Los Angeles' skid row; and "Embracing the Leper," on the crippling disease's hidden but startling toll in Manaus, Brazil.
Much of the lighting, music, editing and other technical work is donated by his contacts in the entertainment field. But "I'm constantly begging for funds to do these films," he said. He uses the website of the nonprofit organization he set up to sponsor his work, the San Damiano Foundation, to sell copies of the films and appeal for funds.
"I fervently believe film can touch hearts and minds," he said. "I want people to think about the poor and get them to do something," even if it's donating a few dollars or giving an hour a week to a shelter.
"People are so overextended today," he said, "but they find four hours a day to watch mindless TV shows."
Straub is all too familiar with that mind-set.
He got a temporary job at CBS headquarters in
"I clearly remember I was sitting one day in my office overlooking the ice-skating rink at
"We had to do everything for a ratings point. I knew it wasn't fulfilling me. I wanted to think about more serious things in life."
Intertwined with his fast-paced life was a bumpy relationship with religion. Raised a Catholic, he had long had doubts about his faith. His experiences in the late 1970s as the producer of Pat Robertson's then-fledgling "700 Club" led him to write a book, "Salvation for
He left network TV in 1987 to take a series of consulting and freelance jobs in the entertainment business while he penned an indictment of organized religion, a novel titled "Dear Kate" that was published in 1992.
But it wasn't until 1995 that he found the answer to his quest for a meaningful life, and ironically it sprang from religion.
"I was in an empty church in
Though his work has spiritual overtones, Straub says the films are meant to speak to atheists and people of all faiths. "We must fight the feeling that one person cannot make a difference," he said. "The message is that this is one big human family and we have to take care of each other."